


Draco, the Hogwarts Slut, and Harry, the Confused Straight

by MChanV



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Break Up, Crossdressing, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gay Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Honorary Slytherin, Implied Cumslut Draco Malfoy, Implied Straight Sex, M/M, Minor Angst, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Questioning Sexuality, Riding, Slut Draco Malfoy, Vibrators, minor self-harm, only gay smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:02:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24406993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MChanV/pseuds/MChanV
Summary: It’s eighth year, and Harry’s been wondering whether he was completely straight or not, despite being in a relationship with Ginny. Lucky for him, there are rumours of a certain gay slut going around at Hogwarts.DHSHCS is an eighth year drarry fanfiction centred around Harry questioning his sexuality and Draco helping him out. This leads to a lot of confusion on both sides. There is minor self-harm in the fifth chapter, but I will warn you beforehand and will give you the possibility to skip it. Everything is consensual, even if it may not seem that way (just a general warning).
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley (minor), Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger (background)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 212





	1. Business is Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone.  
> This is my second fanfiction here on AO3, so there could be some mistakes in the story (please tell me if you notice any). If you’re from my other drarry series, you might know that I publish (if I have a story ready) every weekend. I finished this story on Monday, but couldn’t wait to publish the first chapter already. There will be a publish this weekend, and every weekend starting from then.  
> Also, (if, again, you’re from Destinia) this is not the story I said I would be working on. I have been working on that one (50k+ already) and the beta reader submissions for that one and the second part of Destinia are still open (see notes at the end of the chapter for more information). I do not really need any betas for this story, but you are welcome to become one if you want to.  
> The warnings are already in the summary, so I’ll leave it at this.  
> Concrit is welcome.  
> Enjoy!

To say the letter Draco got was unexpected, would be an understatement.

Draco Lucius Malfoy, well-known slut at and around Hogwarts, gay, bottom, and pleasantly surprised as Marble, his albino eagle owl, had brought him a special letter on a stormy November evening. It read,

_Dear Malfoy_ (Weird, as most greetings were along the lines of ‘hey, slut’.)

 _I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately. You’re the infamous Hogwarts slut, welcoming any not-so-straight boy to fuck you up._ (He had had to laugh at the phrasing.) _I’ve been very confused about my sexuality lately, even though I’m dating a girl, and am wondering if you could help me out._

_I hope you’re professional enough to not link this to our personal lives._

_\- Harry Potter_

At first, Draco had been sure it had been a joke, a silly dare, but he had sent a letter back nonetheless. _Business is business_ , he reminded himself of his motto. The letter read,

_Dear Harry Potter_

_I hope for the sake of your dick — of which I am not sure would be worth it — that this is not some silly prank you’re trying to pull. If it is, I don’t care. Business is business._

_Now, back to your request (of which I hope for the sake of your dick is real). It would not be my first time helping people questioning their sexuality. I am open for testing. I do hope you understand that I am very much against cheating. The fact you have a girlfriend will set a few limits on what’s possible. I do not consider a one-night stand cheating, but anything besides fucking is off. And I’d prefer it if you discuss this with your girlfriend first._

_If you’ve taken all of this into consideration, I’d like a letter back with things you’re for and against, and things you’d like to try. Also, a set time and date is up to you to decide._

_Greetings DM (HS)_

It had taken only an hour to receive a letter back.

_Dear Hogwarts Slut_ (Draco had chuckled softly upon reading that.)

_I understand your objection to cheating, and am myself fully against that, but I don’t think it’s wise to discuss this with Ginny. I’d like to keep our relationship, and I still have feelings for her (he had gagged at that), even though I’d like to experiment with my sexuality. I am fine with just the fucking._

_And for those things..._

Three brief lists and a time and date had followed that mention, giving Draco enough to prepare himself with.

(Text Copyright © 2020 MChanV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I will publish a new one every weekend. Now, for the beta submissions (only if you want to), you can message me on my other social media (or AO3, but I don’t know how that works). They are: Instagram (mchan_v), Twitter (@MChanV4) and ff.net (M-Chan V). And if you’re up to betareading the new story, I can always send you a short summary / tags of it.  
> Bye!


	2. A First One-Night Stand with the Hogwarts Slut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!  
> If, like me, you have stuck positions in the bed (i.e. Draco sleeps on the left side, Harry on the right side), switch them until further notice (last paragraph chapter 5). You’ll thank me later.  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> In terms of fanwork of this series:  
> Fanart: No permission needed, send link to my mail (MChanV.Official@gmail.com) and/or @ me if posted to tumblr or instagram.  
> Podfic: Permission needed, request permission and send link via mail (MChanV.Official@gmail.com) and/or @ me if posted to tumblr or instagram  
> Translations: Permission needed, request permission and send link via mail (MChanV.Official@gmail.com) and/or @ me if posted to tumblr or instagram  
> Sequel: No permission needed, send link via mail (MChanV.Official@gmail.com) and/or @ me if posted to tumblr or instagram  
> !Credit is needed for all of the above!

Draco sat on his bed the next night, leaning against the headrest and busying himself with a sex book to get him fired up, as he waited on Potter. He wore only an oversized black shirt and black stockings. No pants, as the letter had asked (it hadn’t really been a demand). He would have sex with Potter in about five minutes, and he wasn’t at all nervous. Most people would, naturally, if you were planning to have sex with your enemy, rival, whatever. Sex for Draco, however, meant business. And he didn’t mix business with his personal life, but who gave a fuck? He was there to get fucked, that was all.

He looked up from a list of tips on how to ride someone as he heard a knock on the door to the lounge. “It’s open,” he called, placing the book in a drawer of his nightstand and getting up from the bed, waiting next to it. His eyes locked with Potter’s nervous ones as he opened the door. He quickly broke their eye contact by looking at the floor and closed the door behind him, clearing his throat.

“So...” he started. Draco rolled his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, feinting worry. Potter’s eyes snapped to him, and Draco could see as well asfeel them raking over his body. He gave a low chuckle, briskly approaching Potter, who looked slightly alarmed.

Draco rolled his eyes again, undoing the clasp of Potter’s cloak and dropping it to the floor. “Have you thought of a safe word?” Draco asked as his hands played with the rim of Potter’s horribly red Muggle jumper. Potter’s breath stuttered, as he was forced to look up from Draco’s crotch.

“I can’t really think of one,” he admitted, biting his lip and shrugging. Draco noticed the bulge tenting Potter’s jeans and smirked slightly.

“No?” he wondered innocently, frowning up at him. “What about ‘emerald’?”

“Emerald?” Potter returned, big emerald green eyes unfocused as they stared into Draco’s.

“Mhm, emerald,” Draco agreed. Potter shrugged, eyes falling down Draco’s body again. Draco, suppressing a laugh, demanded, “Lift up.”

“Lift... what?” Potter asked stupidly. Draco groaned, but more out of humour than annoyance.

“If you can pay that much attention to my body, you could at least try to pay half that much attention to my voice,” Draco retorted. “I said, lift your arms, so I can get this horrendous thing off you.”

Potter looked like he wanted to snap back, but rephrased it to a timid, “Right...” as he lifted his arms. Draco pulled the jumper off, throwing it aside and leisurely pulling the rim of Potter’s shirt out of his trousers. He could still feel Potter’s eyes on his crotch, as well as see his dick harden steadily through his Muggle jeans, as he disposed of the shirt. He gestured to Potter to remove his own jeans.

“How do you want me?” he asked, inspecting his nails, but not missing Potter’s body freezing and his dick, now extra visible as he had only his pants on, twitching.

“On your knees?” he asked. Draco shrugged.

“Knees it is.” He walked over to the bed, climbing on it and getting himself comfortable. He knew good as well that his shirt — however oversized it might be — could not cover his bare butt as he pushed it in the air, leaning on his arms and knees. Potter’s sharp intake of breath from behind him punctuated this feat.

Draco wondered why he even needed help with his sexuality. And the fucking hadn’t even started yet.

“Lube’s on there,” Draco told him as he finally snapped out of it and approached the bed. “Stretching’s not needed.”

Potter nodded dumbly, removing his pants (Draco watched gleefully as he hissed when his more-than-just-erect and slightly-thicker-than-average cock jumped free against his stomach) and slathering his dick with lube. He hurriedly settled behind Draco, who suppressed the urge to laugh.

Warm hands found Draco’s waist, and he shivered, blood pumping to his dick. He jumped up, now leaning on his hands instead of arms, as Potter’s hand found his dick. Draco felt him give it a few quick strokes, staying for it to become fully erect, before slowly inching his dick inside.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Didn’t I just say I’m stretched?” he asked. Potter froze. “You don’t need to be slow,” Draco explained, sighing.

“Oh... okay, then,” Potter mumbled, and he thrusted forwards forcefully. Draco groaned low, pushing back on Potter’s dick, arms slipping out from beneath him as he set a quick rhythm. He was ruthless with him, pounding him into the mattress with abandon. Few of his one-night stands could do that.

Draco felt his voice break a pitch higher, which it didn’t do often, and got quickly lost to the feeling of being fucked mercilessly. He had always been one for rough play, but never one to push it onto his partners, and the pool in Draco’s stomach grew quicker than ever. He clasped his hands around the pillow in an attempt to ground himself.

“Close,” he gasped out, followed by Potter’s moan of agreement. By the pulsing of his cock inside Draco — a feeling he preferred above most — he wasn’t very far from coming himself. Right as Draco felt his bollocks contract and his orgasm near, Potter sized up, groaning low and spilling a gullible load of cum inside Draco’s ass.

The warm feeling of cum filling him triggered Draco’s own orgasm, and he emptied his cock onto the covers below him. Falling to those covers, he clenched his ass as he felt Potter’s half-flaccid cock slip out of him. Grabbing beneath the pillow for his wand, he summoned a sizeable butt plug to accommodate Potter’s girth from the box beneath his bed, putting it in to keep him stretched and the cum inside, as Potter collapsed onto the bed next to him.

Draco, smirking, asked, “And?” Potter laughed breathlessly.

“I’m gay,” he admitted, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “And that was amazing. Ginny never allows me to go that fast.” Draco almost choked on his own spit.

“Let’s leave her out of this.” He grimaced. “I don’t like being reminded of straights existing. And you don’t have to be _gay_.”

Potter’s eyes shot to Draco, brows furrowed. “I don’t?”

Draco laughed coldly. “There are a lot of sexualities,” Draco said, shrugging, as he got off the bed. “I’ll owl you a book.” He winked and waved at him jokingly before entering the ensuite bathroom. “And get dressed and leave, you’re not staying the night!” Draco called out. He chuckled as he heard Potter’s laugh.

With a satisfied smile, he sunk down to the floor with his back against the door, softly stroking his already-growing cock. He knew he could manage a round two, let alone right after the best sex he had had in a long time and the reminder of it stuck up his ass, even though it might not be as good. _At least it won’t be another prostate orgasm_ , he told himself. He really couldn’t have two of those in a row.

Harry hurried back to Gryffindor, Cloak not helping with his loud footsteps resonating through the corridors. _Damn Malfoy having a room in the dungeons_. As he reached the portrait, said the password, entered after a disapproving look from the Fat Lady into, probably, thin air and fled upstairs beneath the Cloak so his friends and girlfriend, who were, along with the other eighth years and a handful seventh years, still down in the common room, wouldn’t notice him.

He dropped the Cloak upon entrance, groaning in his hands as he rubbed his face. Fuck, he was gay. That had to have been the best sex he had ever had. Hurrying to get ready for the night, he ignored his half-hard cock as he changed into his pyjamas and climbed into his bed. He lay on his back, looking up at the canopy, ignoring the aching of his cock telling him it wanted more.

After fifteen minutes, he groaned, grabbing his wand and spelling the hangings shut, placing a silencing charm on it. He pushed his pyjama bottoms and pants down, cock jumping free. He jerked off quickly, mind effortlessly supplying the image of himself pounding into Malfoy.

His hips arched off the bed as he came, groaning loudly. He cast a quick vanishment charm, head falling back onto his pillow, panting. He rolled onto his side, undid the charms on the hangings, and heard the door open.

“Harry?” Ginny’s voice filled the silence. Harry tried to get his breathing under control as footsteps neared his bed. “Are you all right?”

“Of course,” he answered, sitting up and opening the hangings. “Why do you ask?” Ginny shrugged.

“I didn’t see you downstairs,” she said. Harry moved over so she could join him in his bed. “You don’t usually go to sleep this early.” Harry tried to hide his guilty expression as he cleared his throat.

“It’s been a long day,” he said, laying down on his back. Ginny, with a roll of her eyes, lay down on his chest.

“Sure,” she mumbled. Harry wound his arms around her shoulders, placing a small kiss on her forehead. They fell asleep not long after that.

(Text Copyright © 2020 MChanV)


	3. Falling out of Love and (Unknowingly) into Another

Two days passed, and Draco had severe trouble keeping up with Transfiguration. He kept glancing at Potter, sitting to his right in a row in front of him, absently looking him up and down. Getting Potter off his mind had been a big trouble those past days. It kept mentally coming up in moments not very suited for it. Slowly, small details he hadn’t even noticed, returned, catching him off guard.

He could easily recall when Potter’s breath had got weary, his thrusts sloppy but not any less hard and fast. He could hear his groans of pleasure, feel Potter’s dick pulsing inside him, smell sex wherever he went, even more and stronger than he was used to.

But he couldn’t recall what Professor McGonagall had just asked him.

“My apologies, Professor, could you repeat that?” he asked. McGonagall gave him a disapproving look.

“I do hope you know, Mr Malfoy, that zoning out in a N.E.W.T Transfiguration class can risk you your grade,” she scolded him. Draco dutifully hung his head, perfect at acting the innocent.

“I am aware, Professor McGonagall. I’ll take care of it.”

But staying true to his promise became about impossible as, after answering the question correctly, his eyes locked with Potter’s darkened ones. He held his gaze, not giving in to the pathetic urge to look away.

As McGonagall started lecturing again, Potter started paying attention again and Draco started checking Potter out again, absently rubbing his growing erection. If only he had a vibrator instead of a plug up his ass.

Harry broke Malfoy’s eye contact as Professor McGonagall continued lecturing, but her voice morphed to a buzz as his thoughts returned to Malfoy. He couldn’t get the sight of that writhing body beneath him, couldn’t get the memory of the feel of Malfoy’s ass around his cock out of his head.

Even though in the middle of class, he was achingly hard. He tried not to pay attention to it, keeping his hands firmly atop the desk, holding his legs still and slightly spread. It didn’t lessen.

He was too hard by the time Transfiguration had ended, using his robe to try to hide his erection. It was the last lesson of the day, which meant they had an hour off until dinner. He hurried to Gryffindor, scanning the common room for Ginny.

Finally, he caught her sitting in a corner of the room, reading a book. He hurried towards her as nonchalantly as possible, sitting down next to her and discreetly hiding his erection by crossing his legs and draped his robe over his crotch. Ginny greeted him warmly, kissing his cheek.

“Got time for a quick shag?” Harry asked. He wasn’t one for subtly planned out foreplay. Ginny snorted.

“Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes with a grin. She planted a passionate kiss on his mouth, leading him up to the eighth year boys’ dormitory.

Harry sighed wearily, glancing at Ginny’s peaceful sleeping face next to him. He had not enjoyed that in the slightest. The only thing that made him come had been the persistent thoughts of Malfoy. Well, at least he still liked her romantically...

He raised his hand to caress her cheek, smiling softly as she frowned in her sleep, snuggling her face deeper into the pillow. Yeah, he still liked her. The warm feeling in his chest confirmed that.

Harry woke up two days later with the strangest feeling ever. He shuffled restlessly, searching for what was unnerving him, as he caught sight of Ginny snoozing next to him. He couldn’t bring himself to smile as he used to and instead frowned at her.

With a shake of his head and a horrified expressing, he came to his senses. What was happening to him?! This was his girlfriend! Harry noticed the near shiver as he thought that. He looked down at his hands in the darkness, trying to figure out what was wrong.

He recalled a few of their dates, but soon grimaced, disgusted at even the thought of kissing her. With a low groan, he rubbed his face in his hands. He didn’t like her anymore, that much was obvious, but why? Why didn’t he like her anymore? They had been dating for months! Months! And suddenly, all was gone?

He knew he didn’t like sex with her anymore, and had been avoiding that the past days, but not liking her would be a new shock he would have to deal with.

He hurried out of the dorm and common room, dressed and all, waking no one, and rushed to the Great Hall for breakfast. There, he tried to focus on eating his breakfast and not think of how to break the news to Ginny, so it relieved him when his friends entered the Hall not long after he had.

“Good morning, Harry,” Hermione greeted him cheerfully, sitting down in front of him. The early morning had hardly ever bothered her.

“Morning, Mate,” Ron said, yawning, sitting down next to his girlfriend. He, like Harry himself, did have troubles with the early hours. “Where’s Ginny?”

Harry almost choked on his egg. “She’s still asleep,” he told him dismissively. “She looked like she needed it.” Ron nodded, smiling.

“All right, then!” And he started devouring any food on the table.

Harry kept nervously glancing at the doors, fearing for if Ginny would enter. He had to find a way out of this; he had to break up with her... He didn’t like her anymore, and he wanted to come clean about the one-night stand as well, hoping she had the same look on it as him and Malfoy had.

In the middle of his breakfast, his eyes fell on Malfoy, entering the Hall, dressed elegantly in jet black robes. Harry’s eyes followed him as he walked towards the Slytherin table, hips swinging slightly, one hand raking through his platinum hair. Malfoy didn’t seem to notice his stare.

He finished his breakfast quickly, aware of the bothers Malfoy’s presence would bring him. And getting hard was all too likely when you were still feeling drowsy early in the morning.

He said his brief goodbyes to Ron and Hermione, telling them he would see if Ginny was up already, and left the Hall. As he turned right to return to Gryffindor, not at all about to wake her, he came face to face with the exact person he’d hate to see the most right now.

Ginny seemed to haven’t noticed his horrified expression as he froze in the hallway because she greeted him as cheerfully as ever, “Morning, Harry!”

“Uh, morning, Gin,” he greeted back awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. _It’s now or never._ “I’ve been, er, meaning to talk to you?” She gave him a confused frown.

“What about?”

“Us,” he mumbled, raising his voice as he continued. “I’m sorry, Ginny, but I don’t like you like that anymore.”

“What? Why?!” she demanded.

Harry shrugged helpfully. “I’ve been thinking about our relationship for a while, and I’ve found I can’t like you anymore,” he tried explaining what he couldn’t himself. Ginny scowled darkly at him.

“How?” she wondered quietly, frowning.

“I don’t know, Ginny, I’m serious,” he told her sternly. “And,” he added after a deep breath, “I think I’m gay.” That was what he had decided on with Malfoy’s book. He couldn’t feel any attraction to females anymore, so he must be gay. Ginny, however, didn’t take it as well as he had.

“You’re a fagot,” she stated, looking disgusted. “How did you even—?” She cut herself off, shaking her head while grimacing. She took a wary step back, and Harry’s heart dropped to his stomach. He hadn’t realised people wouldn’t accept him... Why hadn’t Malfoy warned him about this?!

Well, two truths out, let’s go for three.

“I also had a one-night stand with a boy a while ago, ‘cause I was questioning my sexuality,” he told her bluntly. Ginny’s eyes widened in disgust.

“You had a ONE-NIGHT STAND with some FAGOT FUCKBOY (he almost snapped at her for calling Malfoy that), BEHIND MY BACK, WHILE WE WERE DATING?!” she yelled at him.

“What...?” Harry froze at the sudden voice, glancing to his side. Ron and Hermione were standing there, wearing utterly shocked expressions. “You cheated on my sister...?” Harry could hear at his voice that Ron was anything but pleased.

“Well,” Harry started in an attempt to clear his name, “I wouldn’t call it cheating. He wouldn’t either. It was just me experimenting with my sexuality because I was unsure.”

Ron rolled his eyes irritably. “That’s still cheating, Harry,” Hermione whispered, frowning disapprovingly. Harry sighed.

“Neither of us meant that...” he admitted softly, arms wrapping around himself, unsure of how to protect himself anymore.

Draco looked up from his breakfast at the commotion just outside of the Great Hall. “What do you think’s happening?” he asked, turning to Pansy and Blaise. Blaise shrugged.

“Probably Potter making a scene again,” Pansy said dismissively, returning to her food after a quick glance at the doors. Draco frowned.

“I’m going to check it out,” he announced, standing up and leaving the Hall. If Potter was causing a scene like this, something serious had to be going on. And Draco had a strong feeling of his involvement in it all. And indeed...

“Neither of us meant that...” he heard Potter mumble and quickly hid himself behind one of the big statues an end from the crowd of gossip-greedy students. They were talking about him. “Like I said—“

“I don’t care what you said, mate,” Weasley’s sharp voice rose over the dead silent crowd. “You cheated on my sister!” Draco bit his bottom lip sharply. He had to help Potter before he said something he shouldn’t. He took his wand out of his inner-robe pocket and murmured a quick incantation.

He closed his eyes, grunting quietly as he felt himself moving. Opening his eyes a second later, he had left his own body behind, and was now looking through Potter’s eyes. Hearing Potter’s consciousness protesting in the back of his head, he quickly told it to shut up so he could help him.

“I didn’t cheat, Ron,” he made Potter say, mentally cringing at the first name and telling him to straighten his back. He could finally see the situation without a crowd of bothers covering everything. Weaslette standing in disgusted shock in front of Potter, Weasley and Granger just out of the Hall to his right. “I can show you the correspondence, which strongly states that anything beside shagging would be considered cheating.”

He didn’t stop when Weasley opened his mouth to retort. “I don’t like Ginny anymore,” he said, after having asked Potter’s mind for the memories. He suppressed his heavier breathing. “That’s why I’m breaking up with her fair and square. I didn’t cheat, even if you may think that, and I don’t care. Go off, I’d say. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends with you anymore.

“The reason I came clean is that I do. I still want to be your friend. But if you don’t want to be mine anymore, I can deal with this alone. Goodbye.” And he told Potter to walk away, leaving Weaslette, Weasley, Granger and an entire crowd of students thunderstruck. He tiredly whispered to Potter’s consciousness to not bother with them and get himself together before seeking another conflict.

After having received the agreement from Potter he needed, he undid the incantation, falling back to the wall as his consciousness returned to his own body. Feeling disoriented and exhausted, he rubbed his face and eyes, groaning quietly. Looking back at the Great Hall, the rowdy crowd of students were slowly starting to leave and head to class.

He should, too, he reminded himself, shaking his head to rid the last bit of confusion, and set off down the corridor, stifling a yawn.

(Text Copyright © 2020 MChanV)


	4. A Second One-Night Stand with the Hogwarts Slut

_What a horrid day…_ Harry thought. He rubbed his eyes, yawning but not feeling up to sleep. It was late in the evening, maybe around eleven? Or midnight even. Either way, he had been lying awake for too bloody long already. With a soft groan, those persistent memories of Malfoy flashed before his eyes again.

Sitting up in his bed, he grabbed his wand and summoned the Marauders’ Map while putting on his glasses. After a small “ _Lumos_ ,” he summoned the floor plan of Hogwarts, eyes searching for Malfoy’s name in his room. But the room was empty.

Frowning, he searched his name throughout the castle, finally finding it alone atop the Astronomy Tower. Harry, wondering what his deal there was, stood up from his bed, hid the Marauders’ Map in his trunk and left, not bothering to cover his pyjamas.

The walk to the Astronomy Tower luckily wasn’t that long with Gryffindor Tower being on the same floor. He hadn’t even bothered to take his Cloak with him. Despite it having been slightly colder the past few days, that night was easily bearable with just his pyjamas.

Reaching the Tower, he inched the door open silently, looking inside and finding Malfoy sitting on the edge of the platform where a piece of the railing had broken off at the War. His hair was windswept and a black oversized shirt sagged over his shoulders. From what Harry could see, that shirt was the only thing he had on.

He slipped inside and closed the door behind him, ignoring his twisting stomach. Instead, he focused more on Malfoy’s face. _He looks bothered. I wonder what’s wrong with him..._ he thought, but shook his head to rid of them. “Not in bed?” he asked, smirking at Malfoy’s jump.

“Potter,” he acknowledged his presence, but kept looking in front of him. “What do you want?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, nearing him.

“Hmm, same,” Malfoy whispered, blinking heavily. He looked disorientated. Harry sat down next to him.

Ignoring that look, he asked that what had been on his mind since that morning, “I, er, ‘ve been wondering, was that you that helped me out this morning?” Malfoy started, looking alarmed from side to side and blinking quickly.

“Yeah... yeah, it was. How did you know?” His voice turned very breathy.

“I thought I recognised you speaking to me,” he said, shrugging, scratching the back of his neck. Malfoy nodded thoughtfully. “What spell was that, by the way?” Harry continued cheerfully, remembering how he had never seen it before. He only just caught Malfoy’s tiny shudder.

“You don’t want to know,” he whispered, eyes wide in fear.

“Is it a bad spell?” Harry wondered. Malfoy nodded. “...Dark Magic?” Malfoy nodded again, but hesitantly. Harry’s eyes widened in shock. “You used Dark Magic on me?!”

Malfoy sighed wearily. “It would never hurt you,” he said sharply. Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

“Then why is it Dark Magic? And why are you being so wary about it?” he demanded.

“It’s more the caster that’s in danger,” he admitted after a few thoughtful seconds. Harry’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean...?” he asked lowly. Had Malfoy sacrificed himself for him?

Malfoy shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he breathed. “Don’t worry about it. I know how to handle it.”

Harry, frowning, asked, “But how?”

“Father taught me,” Malfoy said in a gloomy voice. A shudder went over his skin. “Just as he taught me various other Dark spells.”

“That’s horrible,” Harry said truthfully. Malfoy shrugged, but he didn’t look too comfortable.

“It can come in handy,” he supposed. Harry frowned.

“Why did you help me?”

“I thought you might say things you shouldn’t, you know, about me.” Harry nodded, the reminder of the one-night stand making his eyes fall to Malfoy’s lips. He watched tantalised as a chuckle left them.

That same chuckle brought him, five seconds later, back to his senses. He jumped upright, clearing his throat and searching for something to say. “Well...” he started shakily, “thank you. Even though they’ve been ignoring me all day...” Malfoy frowned.

“If they give you shit, just tell me,” he sniffed, crossing his arms and raising his chin. “I’ll show them.” Harry smiled softly, licking his lips as his eyes fell back to Malfoy’s small pink ones. Merlin, what he wouldn’t give to fuck Malfoy again...

Harry jumped at that thought, before rolling his eyes at himself. _Why not?_ he reasoned. _We’re alone now, aren’t we? And I’m single this time ‘round..._ he cleared his throat as his eyes registered Malfoy’s grey ones staring at him. They really had a nice colour...

“Something wrong?” Malfoy teased him, smirking and leaning in slightly. Harry flushed.

“I, uh, wanted to, uh—” Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“Just spit it out, Potter, what do you want?” Harry bit the inside of his cheek, eyes falling to his lap.

“I want to fuck you again,” he whispered, looking at Malfoy from beneath the fringe that had fallen before his eyes. Malfoy’s eyes widened, mirth filling them.

“Sure,” he said, chuckling.

Harry started. He hadn’t expected Malfoy to agree. His eyes snapped to Malfoy’s hand as it took a small jar out of a bag next to him, just big enough to fit only that. “Do you carry lube around with you wherever?” Harry asked, amazed.

Draco laughed shortly. “Yes, I do,” he agreed. “It can come in handy, as you can see.” Harry nodded, embarrassed. “So...?”

“You can lead,” he whispered. “But I’m not in a relationship anymore, so...” He started as Malfoy’s lips touched his. A tongue found its way between his parted lips, and he moaned, hands twisting in Malfoy’s hair.

Malfoy snickered through the kiss, and Harry’s eyes slid shut. He was pushed onto his back, Malfoy climbing onto his lap, kissing him greedily. Harry felt his dick growing in his pyjama bottoms. This was what he had been missing...

Malfoy broke the kiss, and Harry felt him pushing down his bottoms. A hand came up and wrapped around his dick, stroking it to full hardness, and Harry looked down in time to see Malfoy reach beneath his shirt (the same too-big shirt from their one-night stand, he noticed now he was so up-close) and removed tiny black panties. Harry’s cock throbbed at just the thought of Malfoy walking around Hogwarts wearing those hidden beneath his trousers.

Harry’s eyelids slipped lower as Malfoy reached down again, removing a big, silver butt plug and dropping it next to them. Harry’s mouth watered, and he shrieked as a cold, slick hand found his dick, lubing it up quickly. Then, Malfoy was guiding it towards his gaping hole and Harry forced his eyes to stay open as his dick vanished inside him.

He looked up at Malfoy’s gasp, watching as he had his head thrown back, soft moans leaving his parted lips. Harry’s breath was getting wearier as Malfoy jumped up and down on Harry’s dick, moaning way louder than during their first time. Harry wondered if he did that just to provoke him.

He dismissed those thoughts, not minding the sounds, as his eyes fell to Malfoy’s dick. It was bouncing at every thrust, rim of the shirt caught on the head, and Harry reached towards it, stroking it quickly, dick throbbing inside Malfoy at his near-scream. Harry slammed his hips upwards every time Malfoy came down, and the pleasure was almost overwhelming.

Harry could feel the knot in his abdomen tighten, could feel his thighs clenching, could feel his bollocks contracting, but he couldn’t warn Malfoy before he came. Spots dancing in front of his unseeing eyes, mouth gaping in a silent scream, his hips snapped up sporadically, dick spurting cum deep up Malfoy’s ass.

Being able to see just enough again, he looked up as Malfoy came, loudly, wildly, limbs shaking, ass tightening almost painfully around Harry’s dick. Cum ended high up Harry’s chest, but he was gazing, gaping at Malfoy. With his head thrown back and his neck flushed, he looked absolutely gorgeous, and that thought worried Harry. Why would he think Malfoy was gorgeous?

He stopped thinking as Malfoy, shuddering, collapsed onto his chest, Harry’s cock slipping out of him. He vanished the cum and put the plug back in his ass. Harry wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him close. He started and Malfoy jumped up out of his embrace as the door slammed open loudly.

Malfoy groaned, rolling his eyes irritably, and Harry looked up to see Ginny, eyes wide in horror and anger, standing in the open door. Hot anger surged through his chest. “Ginny,” he whispered dangerously. “What are you—” A chuckle and a kiss on his cheek stopped him.

“Leave this to me,” Malfoy whispered in his ear.

Draco stood up, grabbing his panties from the floor. With an annoyed sigh, he put them on as he walked, focusing on not losing his elegance. He stopped dead in front of Weasley, crossing his arms over his chest and staring her down.

“The reason for your presence?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Weaslette scowled.

“So you’re the fagot fuckboy, huh?” she said, looking him up and down. Draco clicked his tongue.

“The reason for your presence?” he repeated, voice unchanged. Weaslette’s eyes narrowed as some weaklings would call dangerously.

“As if I need a reason to stop my boyfriend from shagging some fuckboy,” she said highly, sniffing the air. Draco laughed humourlessly.

“How funny you are,” he quipped. “Do you know that, one, the shagging, which was absolutely mind-blowing, might I add, has already ended, and two, you’re not his boyfriend anymore.” He watched gleefully as she glared at him.

“The hell I’m not!” she yelled.

“He broke up with you,” he reminded her, shrugging, keeping his voice stable. “Not my fault.”

“It is,” she accused him. “If Harry hadn’t gone off to shag some fagot—”

“Ah! So that’s your problem!” Draco faked a victorious smile. “You have something against gays.”

“I do not!” she yelled back. Dumb Gryffindors and their anger problems... Draco rolled his eyes.

“What then, sweetheart? Calling someone a ‘fagot’ is highly derogatory, you know?”

“I’m not against gays!” she screamed. Her voice softened, turning unsure as she continued, “I just don’t get how Harry could be gay when he’s been with me for so long...” Draco faked a sorrowful smile.

“How horrible,” he sympathised with her, rolling his eyes right after. “What’s your problem, even?”

“My problem,” Weaslette continued, getting her anger back, “is that Harry cheated on me!”

“He didn’t cheat,” Draco stated, sighing wearily. “I don’t allow cheat—“

“He shagged you!” she interrupted him. And if there was one thing Draco hated, it was people interrupting him.

“Look, Weaslette,” he said, voice lowering and turning icy cold. “I don’t give a fuck what you think. Potter didn’t cheat on you, as I don’t allow that. I follow a strict policy, that if people are in a relationship, anything, _anything!_ , besides fucking is off. I even have a tendency to ask my partners if they could tell their partners, as to avoid any of this bloody bullshit. He agreed, all right, but wasn’t very up to telling you. So what? Deal with it, you whiny ass bitch.”

Draco didn’t stop as the bitch opened her stupid mouth. “If anything, the. Blame’s. On. Me. Not you! Not him! Me! I _allowed_ him to shag me, _allowed_ him to do so behind his now _ex_ -girlfriend’s back. So if you have a bone to pick, pick it with me! Leave him out of this!” His anger was churning inside of him.

“But—” Weaslette tried to get a word in as Draco took a breath, but he didn’t let her, snarling, “ _You_ should be _happy_ that he told you the morning he noticed he didn’t like you anymore! He could have waited, you know, stupid bitch, waited for Merlin and Salazar know how long! Lead you on for ages! Wait ages to tell you he had fallen out of love with you! And here you are, whining your fucking disgusting ass off while you got the best. You. COULD!” Weaslette shrank into herself, big, wide, scared eyes staring up at Draco, who paused to breathe.

“I just wanted to know earlier...” she admitted shakily, timidly. “And about this...” Draco growled at her.

“Well, it’s too late for that now, isn’t it?!” he yelled. “You should feel happy he still wants to be your friend! And you know,” he continued, crossing his arms defensively, “about that ‘I wAnT tO kNoW iF hArRy HaS sEx BeHiNd My BaCk AfTeR wE bRoKe Up!’. HE broke up with YOU, so YOU’re NOT part of his private NOR love NOR sex life anymore!!”

He stopped there for a second, watching gleefully as Weaslette cowered in front of him.

“You know,” he continued nonchalantly, “you should make it up to him. He did nothing to you—” Weaslette looked like she wanted to butt in again, so he added, “and you have my word he didn’t cheat on you,” with a roll of his eyes. “He told you as soon as he found out, or so I expect, because he cares about you. That’s probably also why he told you about the one-night stand, you know? He didn’t want you to find out about it from an outside source.”

“But why couldn’t he talk with my about that?” Weaslette whispered, sounding hurt. “I would have let him!”

“I was scared, Gin,” Potter spoke up. Draco started; he had forgotten he was there. He had his horribly Gryffindor red bottoms back on — it had been way better when he hadn’t — and was still standing near the edge. “I didn’t know how you would react,” he continued, walking towards them. “I really wanted to do that, I was so unsure...” Draco frowned, averting his gaze from Potter’s sorrowful one.

“But you’re really gay?” Weasley asked, and Draco only just caught the soft coldness in it.

“Ye—“

“I don’t think so,” Draco spoke up. Two pair of eyes turned to look at him curiously.

“You don’t?” Potter asked. Draco shook his head, sighing.

“You used to like her,” he said, “and you used to like the sex?” He had to keep himself from shuddering at even the mention of two straights doing so. Potter nodded. “And you’ve been sexually attracted to other girls before that?” Potter nodded again.

“But I don’t anymore,” he said timidly. “That mean I’m gay, right?”

Draco shook his head mirthfully. “Only if you were faking that attraction — which could be an effect of internalised homophobia — that attraction doesn’t just vanish. Maybe your homosexual attraction is just hiding it. Or you like a guy so much that that’s hiding it.” Potter looked at him with wide eyes.

“So then I’m...?” he trailed off, looking unsure. Draco shrugged.

“You could be a lot of things,” he admitted. “Bi, pan, homoflexible,... But it’s up to you to find a word you associate with. I suggest looking through that book, if you haven’t already.”

“I have, but I came out on homosexuality.”

“What book?” Weasley spoke up, and Draco was glad to hear that all the judgement had left her voice.

“A book about sexualities I owled him,” he said offhandedly, waving his hand dismissively, not really up to talking to her. “Nothing to worry about.”

“No, er... I was wondering if I could have one,” she whispered, looking down shamefully. Draco chuckled; now she had his attention.

“Sure, I’ll owl one over,” he said, laughing coldly. “This all resolved then? I’m tired.” He faked a yawn, covering his mouth with his hand.

Potter smiled. “Sure,” he said, nodding at Weasley and they walked to the door.

“Oi, Weasley!” Draco called at her right before they left. She halted, as did Potter. “Clear Potter to his friends, will you? It kinda is your fault this happened.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Fine!” she said, turning and leaving with Potter. Draco sighed as the door closed, feeling awfully lonely. His hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, twisting it. He felt sick to his stomach. What was happening to him?

He shook his head, walking to a still-standing part of the balcony, leaning on it with his arms as he looked at the night sky. He was getting way too attached to Potter...

(Text Copyright © 2020 MChanV)


	5. A Third One-Night Stand with the Hogwarts Slut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This is chapter five, which includes self-harm. You are warned. The self-harm is in the third and fourth last paragraphs of the second ‘scene’ (the first ‘scene’ is clear), and there is a warning beforehand. Please do read the notes at the bottom. Also, prepare. I have a love/hate relationship with this chapter.

All of this was so wrong...

Draco grabbed for his wand beneath his pillow, gasping the incantation, stroking his cock quickly with his other hand. At once, the big vibrator he had been fucking himself with, rammed into him all on its own accord. Draco moaned, dropping his wand to the covers, as the vibrator hit his prostate.

He had returned from the Astronomy Tower only half an hour earlier, and it was already early in the morning. But he didn’t care; he needed this.

He blinked as tears formed in his eyes, hand speeding up, other one clasped tightly around the fabric of his pillow. He gritted his teeth as the first tear rolled down his cheek, moving his free hand up to quickly wipe it away.

Why was he acting like this?!

_...something was missing..._

The thrusting of the vibrator sped up, and he cried out, hand gripping his dick tightly.

_Potter..._

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and Draco gave up on wiping them, letting them form dark stains on his bed and pillow.

_Potter..._

He just needed to make himself come, he told himself. His hand sped up, and he brought his other hand up to rub over the head with his palm. He threw his head back with a loud gasp and let out a throaty cry, sobbing.

_He wanted Potter..._

“Potter,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “Ah! Potter!” He forced himself to think about a few hours earlier. Potter had felt so good inside him... So good... He sobbed, arching his back as he forced himself to come from those memories. The vibrator stopped, and so did his heart. Or so it felt.

He kicked the vibrator away, vanishing the cum. Anger built up inside of him, but it wasn’t meant for Weasley this time, nor his sister. It was meant for himself. Why? _Why?! Why_ did he become attached to bloody Potter?!

He gave a ragged sob, turning on his side and pressing his face into his pillow. Merlin, he hated himself... He whispered a sobbed, “ _Nox_ ,” and let his tears stain the pillow.

Oh, how he loathed himself...

Maybe this would work...

But Draco doubted it. He was sitting in his armchair in the corner of his room, tapping his fingers on the armrest as he waited on his one-night stand. The boy, a sixth year Hufflepuff, hadn’t given him his name, but that didn’t matter to him. He was there to get fucked, not to make small talk with his partners.

He shifted restlessly. This would be the first one-night stand after the one with Potter — and maybe thinking about Potter wasn’t the smartest thing to do. He rubbed his face with his hands, looking up at the door opening.

_Not even a knock, huh_ , Draco thought, rolling his eyes. He stood, crossing his arms, as the burly sixth year entered his bedroom. He felt his eyes rake over his naked — as demanded — body and Draco watched as he quickly disposed of his clothes.

Without even as much as an ‘hello’, he dragged Draco to the bed after stripping, throwing him onto his back on the bed. Draco grunted as he landed, frowning, before looking down at what he got.

_Not too bad_ , he considered. The boy’s dick was a little less thick than Potter’s, but he made up for it with the length — and why was he comparing this sixth year’s dick to Potter’s? Heaven knew he wouldn’t be getting any more of that...

He watched bored as the boy lubed himself up, standing next to the bed, and Draco felt his eyes on his own flaccid dick as he stroked himself. He had the intense urge to shudder, but held it back.

After the boy decided he had pleasured himself enough — _You’re bloody leaking, idiot!_ — he climbed onto the bed, spreading Draco’s legs. Draco closed his eyes, irritated. Why wasn’t he getting hard? He was about to get shagged, and the dumbass had even pleasured himself in front of him already.

With a mental sigh, as to not let the boy know of his inner struggles, he let his mind return to Potter. Feeling his dick harden, he detailed the vision slightly. He could perfectly well imagine Potter kneeling on the bed in front of him, and before he knew it, his cock was rock hard.

His eyes flew open to the ceiling as Potter filled him in one fluid motion. His dick felt different... Moving his gaze down, it widened upon seeing the sixth year, thrusting into him. His chest felt awfully empty. Only then Draco noticed how he wasn’t doing anything for him. Okay, his prostate got some stimulation, but he felt nothing besides that.

Groaning, frustrated, hoping to play it off as one of pleasure, he grabbed his dick, stroking it in a tight fist. The boy’s thrusts sped up, but Draco tried to imagine it was a vibrator. Potter wouldn’t work, Draco knew his dick. Instead, he tried to imagine Potter’s mouth where his hand was, which turned out a bit more difficult as he had never given Draco a blowjob before.

But they had kissed before, and that gave Draco enough insides of his mouth to at least vaguely imagine it. He threw his head back with a gasp, swiping his thumb over the head. He felt the boy’s dick pulse inside of him, before his canal filled with cum. He tried to hold the shudder back, speeding up his thrusts, imagining Potter’s cum inside him, and he came.

But it didn’t feel good. It felt cold, empty, and he was trying his hardest to not let the tears in his eyes fall. He heard a gruff voice whisper, “Hope I didn’t go too hard on you there.” And Draco shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he choked out. “You can leave.” A murmur of agreement followed, before the first door opened and closed, followed by the second one, after Draco heard him grabbing his clothes.

After the last dull thud, he let the tears fall. He shuddered and realised he was freezing. He sat up, arms wrapped around himself in search of any warmth, before his tear-filled eyes fell on the messed up sheets. He squirmed, grimacing, trying to get away from that boy’s cum.

With a shriek, he felt it move inside him, and he searched hectically for his wand, vanishing it all once he found it, dropping it on the bed and jumping off it. He felt disgusted with himself, dirty, contaminated. Rushing to the bathroom, he hurried to shower, smiling sadly as his tears mixed with the water. He didn’t enjoy crying. But he did know why he was crying.

He was in love... and with none other than Harry fucking Potter! He crumpled to the floor, wrapping his arms around his stomach, and cried his eyes out. He looked at his left arm, frowning at the faint scar of the Dark Mark. He couldn’t like him! He was supposed to hate him!

* * *

_** Warning! The next two paragraphs include self-harm! Please skip these if you don’t like it, it makes you uncomfortable, or it triggers you! There are only two paragraphs after. ** _

* * *

But the Dark Lord was dead... he was free to do what he wanted... But was this what he wanted? Falling in love with bloody Potter?! He let out a ragged sob, scratching over the scar once. With wide eyes, he did it again, shuddering at the slight jolts of pain shooting up his arm.

Smiling wickedly, he did it again, and again, and again. As the first drop of blood showed and ran down the drain with the water, he stopped, horrified. Had he just scratched his own arm open?! What the _FUCK_ was happening to him?! He hurriedly finished his shower, didn’t bother with covering up, rushing to get his wand, and cast an “ _Episkey_ ,” lucky to be quite efficient at healing spells.

* * *

_** A brief recap: Draco wondered, now that the Dark Lord was dead, whether he’d want to fall in love with Potter — self-harm — Draco cast a healing charm. He was next to his bed after he rushed out of the shower. ** _

* * *

With a choked sob, he felt tears built up in his eyes again, completely blind to why anymore. He shuddered as he looked at where he just got shagged. _By someone other than Potter_ , his mind added unnecessarily. Draco nodded dumbly at it.

And if Draco would from then on sleep on the other side of the bed, no one needed to know...

(Text Copyright © 2020 MChanV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this twisted (sorry) chapter. If, because of personal reasons, you have skipped this whole chapter or only the second ‘scene’ (which I do not blame you for), could you please leave a comment so I could (if you wish so) recap the whole chapter (or only the second ‘scene’) in the notes in next chapter? Thank you.


	6. Worries and Has Slytherin really always Been like This?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone wondering, yes, I will add a recap for the previous chapter if you want me to. You can ask me that in a review. Have fun reading this chapter!

“You know, I’ve heard it’s been quite a while since our slut has had a one-night stand.”

Harry’s eyes shot open from when they had fallen half-shut while writing his Potions essay and searched for the source of that voice. He looked up as Seamus plopped down on the couch beside him. “Have you, Harry?” he asked as he noticed Harry’s stare. “Malfoy’s probs gone out of business!”

A few laughs followed that, but Harry merely frowned. “It’s kind of a bugger, though,” Seamus continued, gesturing Dean over as he entered the common room.

“And why is that, Sae?” Dean asked, sitting down next to Seamus and pulling his boyfriend onto his lap.

“I thought we were going to see how good he was?” he returned, burying his face in Dean’s neck. Dean laughed softly.

“Are you still on about that?” he wondered, smiling lovingly. Seamus scowled.

“Well, if you don’t want to do it...”

Harry heard nothing more as he felt himself zone out. Malfoy, not having had anyone to shag him? That seemed ridiculous. Malfoy, not having wanted anyone to shag him? More like it.

_But why?_ Harry’s mind pondered. _I thought he loved getting shagged? He wouldn’t just give up on that, would he? I mean, he certainly seemed to love it with me..._

Harry gulped, shaking his head. _Maybe he didn’t enjoy it and was only faking it..._ A sharp pang to his heart followed that thought. _Why would he fake it? I thought it was what he liked... Or maybe he just didn’t like sex with **me**._

“You doing all right, Harry?” Dean’s question kept him from further investigating the stabbing pain in his chest. He looked back at him, blinking quickly.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I am. Why do you ask?”

“You seem out of it.” Dean shrugged. “Potions’s a bitch this week, huh?”

Harry nodded absently, only then remembering the essay he needed finished for the next day.

“Or is it to do with Malfoy?” Seamus piped up happily. “Were you also thinking about meeting with him? I mean, you and Ginny broke up two weeks ago.”

Harry looked up at him, horrified. He sputtered incoherently, before burying his head in his arms on the table. “You are!” And Harry, flushing, could hear the grin in his voice.

“Harry’s getting a shag!” he shouted for the whole common room before Harry could stop him. All the eyes in the common room — luckily, or unluckily, depending on how you saw it, only filled with seventh and eighth years — turned to look at him.

“With whom?” Ron spoke up curiously from where he had been playing Wizard’s Chess with Hermione on the couch next to Harry. “Harry, what are you not telling us?” Ron’s voice sounded playful, and Harry was glad he and Hermione had already long forgiven him for ‘cheating’ on Ginny — with thanks to her, of course.

“I’m... It’s nothing, Ron...” he muttered, knowing his voice must be hardly coherent with his face pressed firmly into his arms like that.

“Is it the same one from that first one-night stand?” he continued pesky.

“Oh, yeah, I remember that!” Seamus called out. “Was that one with Malfoy, too?” Ron shrieked loudly, only just reaching above the noise in the common room, coming from the students that had seemingly all spontaneously been transfigured into owls.

“You’re going to shag Malfoy?!” he yelled. “What the hell, Harry?!” Harry grit his teeth together as he lifted his face from his arms. His eyes locked with Ron’s.

“No, Ron, I am not, and I never will—” he added with a pointed look at Seamus— “shag Malfoy. You have my word for that.”

Ron seemed to visibly deflate as he sunk low in his armchair. “Thank Merlin... Wouldn’t want you getting anything on with that ferret.”

Harry grit his teeth even harder, grabbing his wand and leaving the rest of his stuff, and left the common room, not looking back as several people called his name.

_So what if Malfoy’s a ferret? That doesn’t give Ron the permission to talk shit about him_ , Harry thought angrily. He stomped down several flights of stairs, ignoring the shrieks and fearful looks some students gave him, and set off to Merlin and, you know?!, _Salazar_ knew.

With a few steady breaths, he forced himself to calm down. _Why wouldn’t Malfoy have a one-night stand, though?_ his pesky mind continued its earlier debate. _Did he get sick of it? Or is he too busy? I mean, I don’t blame him, with midterms a month away..._ But that thought only reminded him of how horrible his own studying was going.

_And what about him skipping classes for a week already? He’s going for several N.E.W.T.s too, isn’t he?_ He buried his hands in his hair with a despairing groan. Maybe he should go visit Malfoy and ask what was going on with him before drawing any conclu—What the _fuck_ was he doing in front of Malfoy’s room?!

He jumped back, eyes wide and horrified, as he stared at the wooden door in front of him. How had he got there?! He took a deep breath. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Visiting Malfoy and making him explain instead of going off on the rumours? He shut his eyes and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again and was met with the same fate. With a groan, he tried the knob, surprised as it turned. Harry opened the door warily, glancing through a small crack. The lounge was empty, but like, literally empty. The first time Harry had entered, a small month ago, it had stood full with Malfoy’s possessions.

Now, it just seemed sad. Bare walls, empty cupboards, abandoned... The door to the bedroom stood open, so he walked over and entered the room. It was in the same state: nothing that could indicate someone living there.

With a weary sigh, he left. _Where can he be then?_ Harry wondered, setting off to Slytherin. _It’s worth the try_ , he told himself with a roll of his eyes. He bit his lip softly, carefully looking around the dungeon corridors he walked through. Malfoy’s room was only a few turns from the Slytherin common room, but that small distance gave him enough time to think about something else.

Why did he care so much about what was going on with Malfoy?

He didn’t know, and alike questions kept popping up. One day absent. _Where is he?_ Two days absent. _Maybe he’s sick._ Three days absent. _Is something wrong?_ Four days absent. _What’s wrong with him?_ Five days absent. _Still not here._ And then it was Sunday, and he had got news of him. But it was weird news.

Malfoy, the infamous Hogwarts slut, hadn’t had a one-night stand in a _fortnight_.

He was sure most people would be worried, right? He wasn’t the only one wondering where Malfoy was and how he was doing... right? He hoped not. That would make it incredibly awkward when he suddenly showed up at the Slytherin dorms.

So, with that thought he turned the corner, and walked down the corridor until he recognised the bare patch of wall. He halted in front of it, taking deep breaths, and was about to give the password before he remembered he didn’t know it. And that should have been obvious. How would a Gryffindor know the Slytherin password? Not only with the ‘it’s a different house’, but they’re enemies even! Maybe Malfoy wasn’t the one something was wrong with...

He tiredly rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, withholding an exasperated groan. He looked behind him as footsteps neared him. Walking towards him, was Pansy Parkinson. He had often seen her hang out with Malfoy, and in their earlier years, before Malfoy’s gay slut reputation had spread, had strongly believed they were dating.

Parkinson halted a distance from him, narrowing her eyes at him. “What are you doing here, Potter?” she asked, twisting a strand of black hair and raising one thin eyebrow. Harry blinked, starting.

“I need to enter the Slytherin dorms,” he explained. He honestly didn’t feel like talking to a Slytherin, but maybe she could help him. Parkinson rolled her eyes.

“Then what are you doing here? The Slytherin dorms are at the other side of the Dungeons.” Harry frowned, confused.

“No...” he said slowly. “They’re behind this wall.” He gestured behind him vaguely. Parkinson blinked a few times.

“Then I’ve been sleeping in the wrong dorms, huh?” Harry’s frown deepened.

“What the hell... Wait a—This is one of your Slytherin games, isn’t it? When someone’s found your dorms, you dismiss it and give them a fake location!” Harry smirked victoriously. Now he had her.

But Parkinson didn’t budge. “The Slytherin dorms are at the other side of the Dungeons,” she repeated. “Didn’t you hear me?” Harry rolled his eyes, groaning.

“Show me them, then, if you know it better.” Parkinson smiled sweetly.

“Of course.” She gestured him to follow her, and they set off through the Dungeons. After the tenth turn, Harry gave up trying to remember the way they were going. After five minutes of walking through a maze of tiny, horribly lit passages, she halted in front of an old, dark wooden door.

“Here we are,” she announced, opening it and leading Harry inside. It was a small office, full of spiderwebs and filled with a dull green light. No windows. The only furniture in the room was a dark wooden desk and a chair which seemed to house a thousand spiders. Ron would _not_ have liked it there.

Harry jumped as the door behind him closed with a loud bang. Parkinson turned around, holding her wand and smiling sickly. She pointed it at the door, and the clinging of chains made him turn around. Big, green chains wound itself around the doorknob and door, blocking it entirely.

He was stuck.

He gulped, one hand inching towards his wand.

“Don’t worry,” Parkinson said softly. He looked back at her to see her putting away her wand in her wand-reserved robe pocket. “I’m not planning on hurting you.” Harry narrowed his eyes.

“What is this place?” he hissed. Parkinson’s shrill laugh resonated through the small room.

“It’s the Slytherin dorms,” she said cheerfully.

“What? No! The Slytherin dorms are where I was standing! The common room’s this big rectangular room with a low ceiling and ominous green lighting!”

She smiled lofty. “Indeed, they are,” she agreed. “But you’re not supposed to know that,” she continued, voice turning icy cold. “How do you know where our dorms are, Potter? Do you have a valid reason, or should I Obliviate you?” She fingered her wand.

Harry glared at her. “You lead me into a trap! You can’t trust any of you Slytherins!”

Parkinson laughed. “What do you think, sweetheart?” she wondered. “We’re known for our cunning, after all. Now, tell me how you know about our dorms and why you desire to visit them.” Her voice was stern, deadly.

Harry groaned. “I’ve known since bloody second year where your bloody dorms are, and I don’t ‘desire to visit them’!”

“I said _how_ you know about our dorms, Potter, not _since when_. And if you didn’t desire, then why were you there. Further cussing isn’t needing.” Harry clicked his tongue irritably, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And why would I tell you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. She merely smiled softly, angelically, misleadingly.

“Because I have you stuck here. Even if you win a fight against me, even if you find the counter spell for the chains on the door, you’ll still have to find your way back out through the Dungeons. And trust me, no one has ever managed that, and us Slytherins have been using this place to ambush unwelcomed visitors since Salazar himself taught here.”

Harry wanted to snap at her, but then realised what she had said. _He wouldn’t be able to get out of there without her help._ He sighed, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. Admitting everything was the only way out.

“Bloody Slytherins!” he spat. Parkinson grinned.

“Already got your answer?” Harry opened his eyes to send her a venomous glare.

“Fine! Don’t mind me wanting to figure out what the bloody fuck is wrong with Malfoy!” He supposed it was better to get it out angrily, than to right-out admit his worry.

Parkinson’s mask broke, but only for a fraction of a second, as a fleeting smile spread across her face. Then, it was back in place.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked innocently.

“What’s wrong with him? He hasn’t got shagged in a fortnight and has been absent to classes for a week! And how don’t you know this?!” he yelled. She licked her lips, opening her mouth to say something, before closing it again.

The next time she opened it, her voice had softened remarkably. “Do you really care about him?” she wondered, eyes wide, innocent, soft. Harry sighed and shrugged. She smiled. “I’m sorry,” she apologised. Harry blinked. “I can bring you to him, if you want.”

Harry blinked again. “Why would you do that?” he asked confused. She shrugged uneasily.

“Draco’s been in a... not-so-good state lately, so to say,” she admitted, rubbing her arm. “I think he’d like to know you’re worried about him.” She looked up at him, smiling, and Harry only just noticed her bottom lip trembling. She looked like she was about to cry.

“Why would he?” he asked, scoffing. “It’s probably just so he has something to laugh about.”

Parkinson frowned. “It’s not, Potter,” she sighed. “I promise, it’s not. But that’s up to him to explain. It’s not my place.” Harry groaned softly.

“Fine. Can we get out of here, then? This place is scary.” Parkinson laughed.

“Sure.” She took her wand out of her pocket and vanished the chains. Harry followed her outside. “So, what do you think of us Slytherins now that you’ve seen this side of us?”

“That you’re slimy gits you shouldn’t trust and you lock innocent people up in a tiny room at the end of a maze with some weird green chains to interrogate them about things they ‘shouldn’t know about’.” Parkinson grinned.

“Yes, that’s about it,” she agreed. “But what you don’t know is that all that’s for our own safety.” Harry frowned.

“What do you mean? It’s not like you’re in danger.” She sighed, coming to a halt in the middle of an unlit passage way only just wide enough for them to stand side by side.

“Potter, Slytherin is the infamous ‘evil’ house—“

“Because you do things like that!” he exclaimed.

“No,” she admonished. “We do that because we know a history where every other student wanted us dead, hunt us down and tried to find ways to infiltrate us! We have a history of needing to feel unsafe wherever we go in this bloody castle! We need this much security because we can’t trust anyone besides our own circles!” Harry stared at her as she rounded on him, eyes wide in the darkness.

“Why do you think you don’t hear a lot about us, let alone good shit? It’s ‘cause we keep to ourselves! It’s because we _need_ to keep to ourselves! We’re real cowards, you know, and we’re allowed to be, because we’re no Gryffindors. But we can’t! Because then they’ll find ways to finish us! We need to keep up a mask, something Slytherin, in _our_ circles, is known for!”

She stopped, wrapping her arms around herself. “We act like we don’t care, because that’s a soft spot,” she continued in a much softer voice. It sounded scared, broken. “We act like we’re tough, because they’ll take advantage of anything weak they can find. Don’t you get it?” She looked up at Harry, tears brimming her eyes.

“We’re not even allowed to cry, and it’s become a taboo in our own circles, too,” she sobbed, hurriedly wiping her tears. Harry swallowed thickly, and took a small step towards her, wrapping her in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, choking back his own tears. “I didn’t know.”

“Good,” she mumbled, pulling out of the embrace and taking deep, steadying breaths. “You’re not supposed to.” And she continued walked, leaving Harry staring wide-eyed at nothing. “Come on!” she called out to him, and, shaking his head softly, he hurried after her.  
  


(Text Copyright © 2020 MChanV)


	7. What’s Happened to the Slytherin Dorms? Yeah, We’ll See...

“Here, take this.”

Harry looked up from the stone wall, his frown turning to raised brows, and looked at Parkinson next to him. She held out something silver, a badge in form akin to the Hogwarts one, to him. He took it from her, eying it suspiciously. Turning it over in his hand, he came eye to eye with the Gryffindor lion, only in green and silver, instead of red and gold.

“What is it?” he asked, turning it over in his hand a few times. Parkinson smiled.

“I think it’s time to show you the real wonders of Slytherin house. Come on, pin it on!” she urged him. Harry narrowed his eyes at her, but her smile stayed. Still eying Parkinson suspiciously, he pinned the badge to the front of his robes. At once, the temperature of his surroundings changed.

What was once the icy fall chill of the Dungeon corridors turned to a pleasant spring air. He looked around, surprised. “Do you really think us Slytherins want to deal with the cold?” Parkinson asked him, grinning. Harry stared at her, mouth gaping. She snickered. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

With a brief look at the wall, Harry noticed two big dark wooden doors that had definitely _not_ been there before. Had the badge summoned those as well? “It’s so the first years don’t get lost,” Parkinson explained. “Redemption.” And the large doors opened, revealing a chamber rivalling the Great Hall in size.

A soft green light shone from the giant chandeliers hanging off the ceiling, hundreds of bookshelves lining the walls to the left and right, holes in them for giant windows to the lake outside in a way they could have been formed by the lake itself. Tons of big, black leather sofas stood around low coffee tables out of dark wood and a chatty but typical stay-aware atmosphere filled the air.

Two big staircases lead to an upstairs landing, a big portrait of Salazar Slytherin hung above the fireplace beneath where they met in the middle, before going their separate ways and leading to seven dark wooden doors on each side. On the halfway landing were two doors, most likely leading to a boys’ and a girls’ bathroom.

Wherever he looked, Slytherins were chatting, playing Wizards’ Chess, studying, and quite a lot were reading, resulting in sizeable gaps in the bookshelves, despite there being so many. Harry had seen none of this the first time he had entered, and he supposed it had to do with the badge.

“Got questions? You Gryffindors know near nothing about us,” Parkinson said. She had stopped next to him as he had halted just inside of the common room.

“Why are so many people reading?” he wondered. He had expected that to be a Ravenclaw thing, not a Slytherin.

Parkinson shrugged, leading him to an empty sofa-ensemble in a corner of the room, saying, “It’s a monthly competition. The higher years, often the Prince and Princess, choose a subject for the other students to take part in. You can choose not to participate, though, but most of us do.” She lifted and crossed her legs, leaning back on the sofa, arms folded behind her head. “It’s our competitive side.”

Harry nodded unsurely. “Prince and Princess?” he wondered, raising his eyebrows.

“Yep. Blaise and Queenie are them this year, Draco and I were last.” Harry licked his lips. Malfoy, right, that was why he was here.

“And where is Malfoy? I’m here to see him, aren’t I?” Parkinson laughed.

“Mhm. Follow me.” She stood from the sofa, and Harry did as she told him. Walking through the common room was an experience. Most of the older-looking students only spared him a brief glance, shrugged, and returned to whatever they had been doing, while the lower years gaped after him, staring at him in wonder.

“They’re not yet used to seeing non-Slytherins in here,” Parkinson told him, gesturing him to follow her up the right flight of stairs. “There haven’t been a lot because of our reputation during and after the war.” Harry nodded dumbly. On the halfway landing, she continued straight, leading Harry to the left landing of the common room.

At the third door, she halted and knocked. No answer. “Are you sure he’s in there?” Harry asked. Parkinson nodded.

“He hasn’t come out in a week. We’ve been bringing his food to his room every day.” She sounded worried, and Harry frowned. “Well, let’s just go in, then.” And she opened the door slowly. The room, albeit still larger than the Gryffindor dorms, looked tiny in the dark. He was quickly becoming jealous of Slytherin.

From what he could see, there were four beds, with one king-sized one at the back wall, which he suspected belonged to the Prince. The other three, the usual fourposters but then with green and silver decorations and hangings, stood against the side walls. Four trunks stood before each bed, and next to every one of them stood a desk. The back wall was almost completely gone and interchanged with a window to the lake, the only source of light besides the open door. There was a staircase against the right wall next to the king-sized bed, and Harry suspected it lead to an upstairs bathroom.

“Pansy?” Malfoy’s voice spoke up. Harry’s eyes snapped to the second bed against the right wall at that voice. He felt a pang to his heart as he saw the lump under the covers. Malfoy lay turned away from them.

Parkinson gestured Harry to be quiet. “Hey, Draco,” she whispered, closing the door behind them.

“Do you want something?” Malfoy’s voice broke halfway through and Harry’s heart ached. He gnawed his bottom lip softly. Parkinson took a few steps towards him.

“Can you turn around?” she asked. Malfoy snorted.

“Why would I?” he said, but the usual force had left his voice.

“I’ve brought a surprise,” she tried. Harry, taken aback, flushed. A surprise? Him?

Malfoy shrugged. “Sure...” he whispered, and Harry could bet he heard a small sob coming from him.

“So...?” Parkinson asked. “Will you turn around?” She sounded desperate.

“I’ve got no reason to,” Malfoy sobbed — now Harry was sure of it.

“I think you do, Dray,” she whispered, and Harry saw her wrap her arms around herself out of the corner of his eye.

“I think I don’t.”

Harry frowned. He clicked his tongue out of habit, and both Parkinson and Malfoy froze. _Cover blown?_ he considered. _Looks like it._ “Stubborn as always, aren’t you, Malfoy?” he asked sarcastically. Malfoy stirred.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” If anything, he sounded worse. Why, again, had Parkinson insisted on this being a good idea?

Parkinson shot Harry an exasperated look. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she sighed, turning around.

“Pansy!” Malfoy yelled after her, jumping up in his bed. Harry’s heart clenched at his red-brimmed eyes. _Merlin, he’s been crying..._ Parkinson looked back and flashed Malfoy a brief, reassuring smile, before leaving the room. Malfoy dropped back down on the bed on his back, groaning and rubbing his eyes.

“Uh, Malfoy, I—” Harry started, but Malfoy cut him off.

“What _are_ you doing here, Potter?” he asked, keeping his hands on his eyes.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. “Not my fault you suddenly stop coming to classes!” he shot back at him. “And you’ve been crying. Why?!” Malfoy flinched, making Harry feel bad. “Sorry,” he whispered. Malfoy shrugged.

“I just... haven’t had the energy... to go to class,” Malfoy admitted, voice soft. He dropped his hands from his eyes. Harry frowned.

“But why?” he asked, approaching Malfoy’s bed. “And I’ve heard you’ve stopped getting shagged as well.” Malfoy snorted.

“As eloquent as always, I see,” he said, sitting up in his bed. Harry sat down at the edge. “I don’t enjoy it anymore, actually.” He looked up at the ceiling, smiling sadly.

“I’m sorry...” Harry apologised. Maybe he had taken that pleasure away from him. “I shouldn’t have—“

“Damn right you shouldn’t,” Malfoy spat. “But it’s not in the way you think...” His voice grew soft. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his chin atop his knees. “After those... _two_ one-night stands—” He snickered slightly— “I haven’t really been able to enjoy anyone else.”

“So it is my fault,” Harry stated, biting the inside of his cheek.

“In some ways, yes. In others...” Malfoy shrugged.

“Can I put a light on?” Harry asked, wanting to see Malfoy’s face better. Malfoy shook his head. “Okay...”

“I know it’s not really my place to ask,” he said, “and I’ve never really had to do this before, but—” His eyes locked with Harry’s, and intense waves of arousal shone in them, making Harry shudder, but not break their quickly-turning-intense eye contact. “Fuck me.” Harry took in a shaky breath.

So Malfoy still wanted to get shagged, and he hadn’t mind having sex with Harry! Knowing that was a dream come true for him. But this... This was even better. _Like a wet dream come true_ , he thought, snickering. He gave Malfoy a smirk, standing up from the bed.

Malfoy’s wide, slightly fearful eyes followed him and Harry’s smirk grew. He sat back down practically on his lap, violently grabbing the back of his neck and almost painfully smashing their lips together. Malfoy’s mouth slid open, and Harry pushed his tongue inside, exploring Malfoy’s mouth as he whined.

Harry blindly pulled off the covers and strangled Malfoy’s thighs, thrusting down as he felt Malfoy’s hardened dick beneath him. Malfoy moaned in his mouth, pushing Harry off him. He fell back, breathing heavily and gaping at Malfoy as he searched for something.

After finding it — his wand — all he needed was a murmur and a quick swish to vanish their clothes. Before Harry could fully realise this, Malfoy jumped him, and he gasped loudly at the hot weight on his cock, hips twitching upwards. Malfoy’s needy whine made him groan as he sunk deep on Harry’s cock, head thrown back in bliss.

Harry’s hand found Malfoy’s dick, stroking it quickly, and Malfoy moaned, voice reaching a pitch higher. Then, Malfoy jumped off him, gasping a whiny “Hurry~,” as he pulled Harry behind him, leaning forward on his knees. Harry took a deep breath, seething himself balls-deep inside of Malfoy, snapping his hips quickly and effectively.

“P— P— Ahh, Harry!!” Malfoy yelled, falling to the covers. Harry’s dick throbbed at Malfoy’s cry, and he grabbed Malfoy’s hips so he could grind down quicker and harder into him.

“Malfoy...” he groaned out, “Urgh!” His hand grabbed the hair at the back of Malfoy’s head, pulling it hard and making a pitchy moan leave his throat. Malfoy thrusted back onto Harry’s dick, and Harry moaned. “Fuck!” he gasped out, feeling his balls contracting.

His body shook as he came deep inside of Malfoy, whose arsehole clenched tightly around Harry’s cock. He gasped for air, falling to the side, holding a few fingers (one wasn’t enough) over Malfoy’s arsehole to stop the cum from oozing out. Malfoy dropped onto his stomach, body shuddering and breaths coming out in gasps.

“Do you have a—” He couldn’t finish his sentence because he needed to breathe, but Malfoy handed him a plug either way, having understood him. He groaned quietly as Harry pushed it inside. Harry fell back onto the bed, panting.

It took them a few minutes to catch their breath, and Malfoy was the first to speak up. “Wow...” he said, eyes wide in wonder. Harry grinned. He lifted one of his arms, hoping for Malfoy to take the hint. After a small frown, he did, and snuggled up close to Harry. Harry dropped his arm around his shoulders, pressing him close.

“You know?” he asked, taking a second to breathe in enough air. “I could do that every day.” Malfoy chuckled breathlessly.

“Why not,” he said, shrugged. Harry raised his eyebrows at him.

“Oh, so you want me to fill you daily with my cock and cum?” he asked innocently. Malfoy, flushing slightly, rolled his eyes.

“If it finishes with this, why not?” Harry smiled.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “If it finishes with this.”

“So, what do you think?” Malfoy asked. “I’ve noticed Pansy’s already given you a badge, which would mean you’re an Honorary Slytherin, if only for the convenience, am I right?”

“An Honorary Slytherin?” Malfoy nodded.

“Didn’t she tell you?” Harry shook his head.

“I didn’t ask much, just told her to bring me to you.” Harry didn’t miss Malfoy’s small smile.

“Up to it, then?” he wondered. “Just some shagging from time to time could do both of us some good.” Harry laughed.

“Sure,” he agreed. He raised his hand to push a strand of curled-by-sweat hair out of Malfoy’s face. The blond mess didn’t at all seem as perfect as it did before the sex, but it looked ever more gorgeous like that. Harry frowned. “It doesn’t really have to be just sexual, though,” he supposed. Malfoy looked up at him, giving him a confused look.

“You mean romantic?” he asked. Harry laughed.

“I mean, why not?” Malfoy shrugged.

He snuggled closer into Harry’s chest, mumbling, “We’ll see,” before falling asleep soundlessly. Harry smiled down at him, one hand stroking Malfoy’s cheek.

_Yeah, we’ll see..._

(Text Copyright © 2020 MChanV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is the second last chapter, and the next one will be the last. (I will explain the 9th chapter at the end of the next chapter)


	8. How Could You Do That to Me, You Dimwit?!

“Ready?”

Draco sighed, adjusting the dark green tie in the mirror for the umpteenth time that evening. He shrugged. “No idea, Pans. Can you ever really be ready for this?” He heard Pansy laugh behind him.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “When will you meet him?”

“In half an hour.” Draco frowned as he stroked a hand over his hair, trying to get it to lie perfectly flat.

“Half an hour and you’re already ready to go,” Pansy joked. “How typical of you.”

“I am not ready to go!” Draco shot back, looking around for his wand.

“Your hair’s fine, sweetheart,” Pansy soothed him, but handed him his wand nonetheless.

“I’ll decide that,” Draco snapped, casting a small charm to curl the end of his hair slightly.

“You know Harry likes it when your hair’s messed up.” Draco groaned.

“And you know I don’t,” he bit. “And since when has he been ‘Harry’?”

“Since you two’ve been shagging.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Even I haven’t been calling him that.”

“Lies.” Draco narrowed his eyes, looking at Pansy through the mirror. “You love that name, sweetie, don’t deny it,” she teased him.

“I don’t, actually,” Draco bit. “I think it’s a horribly common and way-too-Muggle name, you know that.”

“And you still scream it when he’s shagging you,” she said. “Or when he isn’t...”

“I do not!” he yelled, turning around and glaring at her. Pansy raised an eyebrow.

“Are you blushing?” she asked, mirthful eyes wide. Draco narrowed his, pointing his wand at her face. “Come on, Dray, you know you do.” She smiled sweetly at him, lowering his wand. Draco clicked his tongue.

“You bet,” he muttered, turning back to the mirror and darkening the shade of his tie a bit.

Pansy, laughing, exclaimed, “All you do is talk about him all day, you do nothing else!”

“I do!” Draco retaliated, bringing his tie back to the original colour with a frustrated sigh.

“Yeah, daydream about him,” Pansy muttered, and Draco gave up trying to make her see sense. He had more important things to focus on. Like, how in the name of Salazar was he going to ask Potter out?

They had decided to meet up outside at sunset, for no other reason than wanting to get away from the busy common rooms after the last midterm exam. At least, that was what he had told Potter. He had asked him to meet him on a cliff near the lake with a beautiful view of the sunset and the lake itself, a place Draco had always loved to come when stressed out.

He had been getting ready for at least half an hour, an hour before the scheduled meeting time, because he wanted to look his best. They had been unofficially going out for about a month, and after a week or two, shagging and cuddling had turned to randomly desiring to be in each other's presence. Draco always hid it as wanting a break from studying for the midterms (he had had a lot of classes to catch up on, what with missing a week), or to do the exact opposite: study with Potter so Potter could help him out with Defence, while he vice versa helped him out with Potions.

Why Potter was even taking Potions was a mystery to him. He was pretty useless at it.

Either way, Draco had already known he at least liked Potter before any of that had even started, so he hadn’t been surprised as he had found himself unconsciously falling deeper.

After a week, he had started noticing the seeming-millions of tiny scars tainting his body. The ‘I must not tell lies’ and the imprint of something on his chest — which Potter had dismissed as ‘slept on my stomach wearing a necklace’ — had hit him the most. How had he never known what Umbridge had done to him?!

Although, if he had to admit it, he supposed he would have wholeheartedly supported Umbridge back then, being the stupid, naive teenager he was.

After two weeks, he had started noticing how Potter’s eyes were actually three distinct shades of green, all mixed together, with darker green around the pupil and lighter towards the edge of the iris. They reminded him of the small forest near the Manor where he had loved to go when he had been a kid.

After three weeks, he had started noticing the tiny freckles across his tan body, combined with the scars most survivors of the war had sporting for hours of amusement, finding the weirdest patterns on his skin and softly tracing them with his fingers.

And, not to forget, he had started noticing even the smallest of noises Potter made. The soft breathing as Draco had woken up before him and he had the chance to listen to his heartbeat. The groans as he didn’t understand something they had to know for school. The soft chuckles under his breath as he sat in the common room — more often Slytherin than Gryffindor, where Draco wasn’t really welcome — and heard someone from another conversation make a joke.

All in all, Draco had fallen in love with every part of Potter. From his body, to his voice, and even his personality was less annoying than he had told himself it was when he had been upset he hadn’t wanted to be his friend. Draco did not like thinking back on that day.

He smiled, looking himself up and down in the mirror once more, casting a charm here and there to get the ruffles out of his robe and suit (all black except the tie), before placing his wand in his inside pocket, smiling satisfied.

“Ready now?” Pansy asked softly, standing up from her bed and walking to Draco. Draco, trying to hide his grin by pressing his lips together tightly, nodded. Pansy didn’t hide hers. She gave him a light push and said, “Go get your man. You have ten minutes left.”

Draco’s brows furrowed as Pansy’s hand touched his robe, but he disregarded it and nodded, taking a deep breath. Pansy smiled. Draco gave her a confident nod, a slight smile, and left the dorm. He ignored the students catcalling him as he walked through the common room. Pansy, damn her, had announced to them where he was going.

He sneered at anyone who dared catch his eye and fled the mass of students. He briskly walked through the Dungeon corridors, leaving the castle through the big doors and taking his time walking up the hill to the cliff. He needed to calm down first. _Maybe he’s already there_ , Draco worried, biting his lip. He took a few calming breaths, and set off for the destination, the snow crunching under his feet.

There was one lone tree atop the cliff, one he liked to sit under. The tree, despite it being winter, was as green and leafy as ever, and Draco had always supposed it had a close connection with magic. Even the snow had fallen thick around the trunk, seemingly having fallen through the leaves. He smiled sadly, thinking of all the times he had escaped to there, and set off towards it.

Potter wasn’t there yet, luckily. He trailed one hand down the cold bark as he looked out over the frozen lake, feeling the familiar texture. He closed his eyes, the soft winter wind messing his hair a bit.

His hand twitched to his inside pocket, before he reminded himself that Potter liked his hair messed up. Instead, he settled for smiling, eyes closed, wind stroking his cheeks. He could hear his robes billowing in this wind and laughed quietly.

“What’s so funny?” a soft, nervous voice whispered in his ear. Draco started, hand leaving the bark as his foot slipped. A warm chuckle reached him as strong arms enclosed around his waist. “Got you,” Potter whispered. Draco bit his lips from the inside to keep from smiling too widely.

“Damn you, Potter,” he laughed softly, pushing himself upright and stroking down his robes. Potter laughed. Draco turned around, eyes widening as they fell on Potter’s suit, wondering what he was all dressed up for. Potter cleared his throat. And if all his years of studying people around him hadn’t been for nothing, Draco could bet his soul it sounded nervous.

“Yeah, about that...” he started, voice trembling in the slightest. He pushed his hands deep inside his trouser pockets. Draco raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Potter said.

“You have?” Draco asked. Three shades of green reflecting the golden rays of the setting sun stared innocently at him, and Draco felt slightly lightheaded. His mouth had fallen open, but he wasn’t bothering to look dignified.

Potter nodded, smiling. Draco blinked a few times. He gave him an expectant nod, and Potter laughed. He reached for Draco’s hands, and the warmth of them overwhelmed him.

“I was wondering if you wanted to be my boyfriend.”

It took a few seconds, but Draco’s eyes widened slowly, cheeks heating up even more than they had before. ( _Bloody sun..._ ) But all he could think about was how cheated he felt.

“You bastard...” he muttered, taking his hands back and crossing his arms.

“What...” Potter’s eyes filled with fear, but Draco merely scoffed.

“How could you,” he pouted. Potter took a step forward.

“Draco, I—“

“ _I_ was going to ask _you_ out, you dimwit, not the other way ‘round!”

Potter burst out laughing.   
  


(Text Copyright © 2020 MChanV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last official chapter, and I hope you enjoyed the story!  
> (Here’s a little information about the ninth ‘chapter’, which you can skip as it’s not important tot the main plot, which is already done:  
> When I was plotting this story (which is rare as I’m a pantser most of the time), I got the idea for an ‘epilogue’ from when they’re older (adults in thirties). I didn’t put too much thought in it, and wrote it more for myself. But I decided to add it either way for if anyone would like it. There are a some changes from canon that I can’t really see happening, but thought it would be cute. Some might, though, so there you go. But for those who will read it, I won’t spoil too much. Take in mind, it’s pretty cringe.)  
> \- M-Chan V  
> Ps, betareader submissions are still open, now also on Tumblr (mchanv), but only if you want.


	9. Reminiscing on Old Times while Writing It Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A recap of what I said about this chapter at the end of last’s:  
> When I was plotting this story (which is rare as I’m a pantser most of the time), I got the idea for an ‘epilogue’ from when they’re older (adults in thirties). I didn’t put too much thought in it, and wrote it more for myself. But I decided to add it either way for if anyone would like it. There are a some changes from canon that I can’t really see happening, but thought it would be cute. Some might, though, so there you go. But for those who will read it, I won’t spoil too much. Take in mind, it’s pretty cringe.  
> Enjoy!

“What’re you doing, love?”

Draco looked up from the text he was typing, eyes searching Harry’s in the dark. “Nothing, really,” he dismissed it, smiling softly.

“It doesn’t look like nothing if you’re up in the dead of the night,” Harry argued, inching closer to Draco. Draco turned the screen away from Harry’s curious eyes. Harry pouted. “Come on, Dray, let me see!”

Draco shook his head, but Harry didn’t relent, giving him those puppy-eyes Draco had always found impossible to resist. “Fine,” he sighed, and continued writing, aware of and ignoring Harry’s eyes on the text.

“Interesting,” Harry said, laughing quietly. “I wonder who that’s about. ‘The evening the day of the fight, they shagged on the roof.’” Draco flushed, looking away. “That does _not at all_ sound like what we’ve been through,” he teased. Draco elbowed him softly in the ribs.

“Mind you, I’ll need your help with this,” he warned him, finishing the plot quickly.

“You will?” Draco nodded.

“What, do you think I know what you went through or felt?” he joked.

Harry laughed softly. “Right, I’ll help,” he agreed. He shuffled closer and lay his head on Draco’s shoulder. “Is it for the new project?” he wondered.

Draco nodded. “It’s only a minor part of the story, but I did want to include it.” He smiled softly down at Harry. “It’s too special not to.” Harry grinned and leaned up to kiss Draco.

Their lips moved slowly against the other’s, eyes shut, and Draco had dropped his phone in favour of holding onto Harry, hugging his body close as they kissed softly. They broke apart as the door to their bedroom opened, and a small boy with platinum blond hair and three-shades-of-green eyes entered.

“Mummy, daddy?” four-year-old Scorpius Potter asked, hugging his stuffed animal to his chest — a present from Mother at his birth. “Is everything okay?” Draco smiled tenderly at him.

“Everything’s fine, Scor, just reminiscing on old times,” he told him. Scorpius smiled widely.

“Okay, mummy. Good night!”

“Night, love.”

“Goodnight, Scor.”

And Scorpius left the room. Draco watched as the door closed, before turning back to Harry. They smiled at each other, and Draco, after putting his phone on the nightstand, curled up against Harry. Harry’s hand stroked his hair as Draco breathed softly into his shoulder.

“You know?” Harry whispered. Draco looked up and saw him staring happily at the ceiling. “We’re so lucky.” Draco grinned.

“We sure are, huh?”

Harry, grinning down at him now, played with Draco’s hand a bit. Draco grabbed it and brought the ring finger to his mouth, kissing the simple golden ring there. Harry giggled, and Draco whispered, “We’ve got a good thing going,” against it, eyes locking with Harry’s.

Harry, sighing, dropped his head back onto the pillow, grasping Draco’s hand in his firmly. Draco smiled, hiding it in Harry’s shoulder, watching his face as he spoke, softly, lovingly.

“And to think this all started with a slut and a boy questioning his sexuality...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you readers for reading this story (and this chapter specifically, if you enjoyed it) with a special thanks to the reviewers who made my days! (And a special, special thanks to OaK, who’s left a comment on chapter 1-7 at the time of publishing!)  
> I hoe you enjoyed it!  
> \- M-Chan V

**Author's Note:**

> In terms of fanwork of this series:  
> Fanart: No permission needed, send link to my mail (MChanV.Official@gmail.com) and/or @ me if posted to tumblr or instagram.  
> Podfic: Permission needed, request permission and send link via mail (MChanV.Official@gmail.com) and/or @ me if posted to tumblr or instagram  
> Translations: Permission needed, request permission and send link via mail (MChanV.Official@gmail.com) and/or @ me if posted to tumblr or instagram  
> Sequel: No permission needed, send link via mail (MChanV.Official@gmail.com) and/or @ me if posted to tumblr or instagram  
> !Credit is needed for all of the above!  
> I usually respond within 24 hours.


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